Carleton-Willard Villager

June 2015 ❀ Volume 33 ❁ Number 2 T h e C a r l e t o n -W i l l a r d Co-Editors’ Corner Villager Published quarterly by and for the residents and administration of Carleton-Willard Village, an ac- credited continuing care retirement community at What a winter! Maybe that’s not what the 100 Old Billerica Road, Bedford, Massachusetts 01730. Villager Board had in mind when they chose “Unforgettable” as our June theme but it cer- Co-Editors tainly describes the season we have just been Alice Morrish and Peggy McKibben through. “Snowiest winter in Boston’s recorded his- tory” according to the news reports. There is Editorial Board still lots of white-stuff-turned-grey around as Mary Cowham • Edwin Cox we work toward submissions deadline in April, Henry Hoover • Stephanie Rolfe which accounts for “Winter Wondering” in our Anne Schmalz • Nancy Smith contents as well as memories of memorable Mary E. Welch • Cornelia (Neela) Zinsser events like weddings, hikes, travels in sunnier times of year. The first spring bulbs are bloom- Production Staff ing now. The old line “It takes living through a Kathy Copeland New England winter to truly appreciate a New England spring” has never been truer. Spring and summer are indeed welcome. Circulation Several new authors appear in this issue Ruth Y. McDade, Chair and we also welcome two new members to the Janet Kennedy • Dot Rand Villager Board. Stephanie Rolfe and Nancy Smith Mary Waters Shepley • Sheila Veidenheimer have each contributed articles for recent issues and now they will join other Board members not Carleton-Willard Village Administration only in writing but also in choosing issue themes and covers, in interviewing new residents for Barbara A. Doyle our “Profiles” section, serving on our rotating President/CEO proofing team and generally working to make the publication as interesting and enjoyable as possible. We thank all our Board colleagues for their work and for their congeniality. And we urge resident readers to become writers.

Alice Morrish Peggy McKibben Co-Editors

T h e C a r l e t o n -W i l l a r d V i l l a g e r • J u n e 2 0 1 5 • V o l u m e 3 3 • N u m b e r 2 2 Contents

Cover – “Monhegan Summer” by Jeanne Paradise Sketches – by Anne Schmalz, Constance Devereux Inside Front Cover Co-Editor’s Corner • Alice Morrish, Peggy McKibben 2 From the Chief Executive Officer • Barbara A. Doyle 3 The Question of Time • Neela Zinsser 3 The Beckoning Fair One • Luis Fernandez-Herlihy 4 The Third Grade Wedding • Ruth McDade 5 The Unforgettable Ride • Anne Schmalz 6 Welcome New Residents 6 A Few Memories • Donna Argon 7 An Incongruous Hiking Group • Bob Sawyer 8 Profiles • (profiles are not made available in this edition) 10 Unforgettable • Ara Tyler 10 The Entanglement • Craig Hill 11 Whether or Not • Edith Gilmore 11 Spirits, Be Gone! • Mary O’Meara 12 Village Happenings • Edwin Cox 14 Sights, Sounds and Smells of My Childhood • Madelyn E. Armstrong 14 In Memory 15 Winter Wondering • Helen Kilbridge 16 Voulez Vous Parler Francais? Non! • Peggy McKibben 16 Night Recipe • Edith Gilmore 17 Surprised by Meghan • Myrtle Cox 17 SOLD to the Little Lady in Yellow • Alice Morrish 18 Camping at Cinnamon Bay • Nancy Smith 20 How to Build a Nest • Anne Schmalz 21 Facts from the Stacks • Katherine F. Graff 22 Among the Newest • Louis W. Pitt, Jr. 23 Recent Library Acquisitions • Katherine F. Graff

T h e C a r l e t o n -W i l l a r d V i l l a g e r • J u n e 2 0 1 5 • V o l u m e 3 3 • N u m b e r 2 1 From the Chief Executive Officer

“God gave us memories so that we might have roses in December.” J.M. Barrie (author of Peter Pan)

Seeing, they say, is believing.

In fact, we use over half of our cerebral cortex – the part of the brain needed for language, perception, thought and memory – to process visual information. And if scientists are correct, we are quickly retraining our brains to rely even more on our eyes (thanks, computers and iPhones) and less on our other senses. Yes, we are definitely visual beings.

Not so with my dog, Maddie. Unlike people, Maddie and her furry pals rely mostly on their sense of smell. If you understood Maddie-talk (and I do rather fluently), she would tell you: the nose knows.

I bring this up because winter – as we know well – was relentless. Long gone were the festive perfumes of bayberry candles, the comforting aromas of holiday baking. The air seemed to have disintegrated into a flat, oxygen-deprived, static-electric envelope of forced heat. Ah, for warm sunshine and a gentle breeze!

Maddie’s nose, I’ve noticed, is pressed against the picture window glass and all a-twitch. She’s detected a curious scent, stealthily delivered thanks to a front door opened and closed with slightly less winter urgency. Outside, the birds and squirrels have caught on as well. Something is clearly afoot!

Canine clairvoyance? Puppy precognition? More, I think, an instinctive understanding, the rekindling of memory. Everything is about to wake up.

Hmm…I believe I’ll crack a window just a bit wider!

Barbara A. Doyle President/CEO

T h e C a r l e t o n -W i l l a r d V i l l a g e r • J u n e 2 0 1 5 • V o l u m e 3 3 • N u m b e r 2 2 The Question of Time we carry around and depend on. They are simply speeding us up, allowing us to speed through ime is something I have been wrestling with time faster, but not more wisely. If the machines Tfor a number of years. My concern with time are really going to benefit us, we need to put has increased as the years pass by, year by year, some limit to their use, by turning them off from always more quickly. What is time anyway? A time to time. That way we can simply enjoy our blessing, a curse, an enemy, a friend or none morning coffee without being alert for the next of the above? Whenever I hear the indifferent call or text! ticking of a clock it doesn’t soothe my fear of be- In the course of that workshop I realized ing late, or help me to do important chores “on there are many other ways in which we misuse time.” It doesn’t keep me from procrastinating our tools and degrade our time. For all our talk - an awkward habit that often causes me to wait, of “being in the present”, our culture pushes us postpone, and end up finishing a task with just to dwell on the past--memories, nostalgia, some- minutes to spare before some deadline or other. times regret--areas which we can’t do anything “Not having enough time” often enhances my about. Alternatively, we are urged to “look to the fear about doing a task adequately and height- future”, another task that is equally futile--as ens my anxiety that I really may not have done a we simply can’t do much about what will hap- very good job despite all that worry. At my age, pen when our great-grandchildren are adults, no a condition I share with so many of you, I often matter how concerned we may be. wonder if I will get everything done: all that sort- Perhaps, the most valuable lesson I learned ing, all that saving, or tossing away to be done at the workshop was that time is neither a bless- and limited time in which to do it. ing nor a curse, but it is inescapable! A very real I know that we have all encountered this problem for us is learning to refrain from berat- problem and maybe even more so as we grow ing ourselves on the nitty-gritty details of daily older. Almost every day, I seem to be bothered life when faced with the inevitable passage of by time -- or rather by the lack thereof. I re- time. On that philosophical note, I guess the best cently read about a time management workshop we can do is to enjoy the time we still have! and was quite proud of myself when I promptly Neela Zinsser signed up for it. But two weeks later, as I drove to the workshop, I worried about being late, find- ing a parking space and even that I might fall on The Beckoning Fair One the ice and break a limb. Nothing really delayed me, not even the extraneous worry, and I made it n 1932 Papá (my father) bought himself an Agfa ‘on time.’ I16mm silent motion picture camera. He had a The workshop opened me up to a couple of lot of fun with it, but he found the transition from ideas about time being both a friend and a prob- his Kodak still camera difficult. For instance, his lem. Accepting time is a reality, and the work- movies of people showed them standing still and shop leader made a connection between time and grinning at the camera. Rarely you might see them the earth’s environment. We live, breathe and removing their hats and waving them, or pointing move in these parallel realities, and as we hu- at something, but always rooted in place. His favor- mans have polluted our planet, our leader asked ite subjects were beautiful or historical buildings, us to consider how we have also polluted our especially if they were really ancient and in ruins. time. We have managed to speed up everything He had whole reels of such structures in which to such a degree that we are left panting behind nothing moved, not even the camera. Mamá could the rate at which information is being trans- not understand this and she tried hard to persuade ferred. Some of the new technologies that have him that movies were meant to show something in altered our lives and are the most common to us motion. To say that his still cinematography drove all, are the little computer-governed machines her to distraction is putting it mildly.

T h e C a r l e t o n -W i l l a r d V i l l a g e r • J u n e 2 0 1 5 • V o l u m e 3 3 • N u m b e r 2 3 A denouement of sorts took place one day The Third Grade Wedding in Paris at the Place de l’Opéra. Papá had taken up his position at the corner of the Café de la n early 1955 I became engaged to be mar- Paix from which he had a good view of the opera Iried during the spring vacation in April. I was house, and commenced to roll. As usual he was a third grade teacher. Somehow I managed to motionless and nothing was moving between him bring some of my wedding plans into the cur- and the building. Mamá and I stood on the corner riculum, especially in the weekly spelling les- of the intersection diagonally across from Papá’s. sons. We had three different levels corresponding A caped gendarme directed traffic in the center of to the students’ reading abilities. So while the the intersection. After what seemed like quite a lower group might have had flowers included in long time during which Mamá grew increasingly their test, the highest group would have bou- irritated, Papá finally ceased filming and turned quet. After a few weeks I was surprised to notice to face us. Mamá, fearing that he might resume everyone was getting one hundred. Then I began filming the opera house, started beckoning to to give the entire class the same spelling lists. him with her arm, indicating that he should come Often I would give harder words like aisle and and join us. Papá caught her meaning, but he and fiancé but they still all received one hundred. I also noticed that the gendarme, who had his Each week we’d drill by defining and pronounc- back to Papá, thought that this attractive and el- ing the words and writing a sentence for each. egant woman was beckoning to him. He respond- One afternoon a couple of weeks before ed in typical Gallic fashion: shoulders hunched, spring vacation, I was very shocked when no one arms outstretched, palms turned up, apology and jumped up to line up for recess at the sound of regret written on his face. Still not seeing the the bell. All thirty-two shiny faces just smiled at policeman, she focused on Papá who now began me and some even started to giggle. It was about filming the action. Here was motion at last: his then that the classroom door swung open and wife and the gendarme in heated conversation via the two room mothers entered yelling, “Sur- sign language. All Mamá saw was Papá taking pic- prise!” Then each and every student reached into tures of her and me and we were standing still. So his or her desk and ceremoniously pulled out she beckoned even more vigorously and the poor a canned good. This was my third grade bridal gendarme expressed even deeper regrets, signal- shower. ing that he could not desert his post while he was After I walked up and down the aisles directing traffic. Papá kept his camera going and thanking each child for his gift of green peas captured the whole dialog. Finally he crossed the or spaghetti, the room mothers brought out a street towards us and the arm-waving ceased. beautifully decorated cake to be shared with the Mamá was greatly embarrassed when we told excited students. Before the cake was cut, I was her what had happened. Without a word she presented with a long slim wrapped gift. It was turned and marched away from that intersection an elegant silver cake knife in my silver pat- as fast as she could. The poor gendarme stared at tern with our two names and wedding date on us in bewilderment and perhaps disappointment. one side and “From your 3rd Grade Class” on Papá loved to show that film at family the other. Before I could weep with joy, Danny reunions to the amusement of all, including Mushotte jumped up from his front seat in the Mamá, as he described to them what was going last row, where I always kept an eye on my little on--for this was still the silent era. And forever troublemaker, and shouted, “Miss Miner, we have after, he took real movies. a bunch of those at our house. If I knew you Seventy-eight years later, I can still see that wanted one, I could have given you a couple of scene vividly. ours.” Then I wept. During our refreshments, one of the room mothers announced that the en- Luis Fernandez-Herlihy tire class would be attending my wedding! They

T h e C a r l e t o n -W i l l a r d V i l l a g e r • J u n e 2 0 1 5 • V o l u m e 3 3 • N u m b e r 2 4 had contacted my mother to receive permission. (Since our church was known for having the lon- gest aisle of any Protestant church in Chicago, she knew there would be ample room for my students to attend.) That Saturday morning dawned overcast, windy and chilly. Our friendly neighbor, Mrs. Todd, arrived with a dry cleaner’s bag containing a beautiful jacket of lightweight white wool. She thought I might be glad of her jacket to wear over my wedding dress. Following the ceremony, the minister an- nounced that because of inclement weather the receiving line and reception would be held in the Dumbo started right up before we were adjacent hall but that “Ruth’s very well-behaved settled and it soon became apparent that our class” could greet the newly-weds in the gardens. combined weight was not centered over the el- They were a well-behaved class because before ephant’s back. There ensued a tortuous half-hour the wedding those room mothers had passed ride. The mahout shouted at us in his unmistak- out the rice. So the bride and groom were pelted able English to “move over”. However, once on a with sixty-four warm rice balls in the garden. lumpy cushion on a swaying elephant with your I had lost track of all my former students legs dangling it is very hard to “move over”. when we moved to New York a few years later, With the mahout yelling at us and at Dumbo, but I did read my semi-annual college magazine and with us struggling to lean back and pull in very thoroughly. There was a photo of the gradu- our feet so as to avoid rubbing against the walls ation class of 1968. In the front row on the end of the road, it was clear this was not an ideal was a tall, lanky young man grinning widely, situation. Dumbo lumbered slowly on until, at named Daniel Mushotte. the point where an archway narrowed the path, he stopped. With his head to the wall, no amount Ruth McDade of the mahout’s yelling got him to move, so the other elephants began to pass us, their drivers calling out what must have been derisive re- The Unforgettable Ride marks and the other tourists waving cheerfully. My granddaughters went by convulsed in giggles. n 1998 my husband, Bob, and I took a trip to Eventually, after relieving himself in every IIndia which included the usual tourist treats. way right in the path of the other tourists and We rode an elephant up the approach to the Am- elephants, and showering us with whatever fluid ber Fort outside Jaipur. I remember it as enjoy- was in his trunk, Dumbo slowly moved forward. able, certainly, and a unique experience. At long last we arrived in the courtyard of the This year I went back to Jaipur with my two Fort. There I realized I was to climb up to the eldest granddaughters, aged twenty and eigh- unloading platform from Dumbo’s low back – no teen. Part of the Golden Triangle was “an un- way! Very fortunately, as they would many times forgettable ride on an elephant at Amber Fort”. on this trip, my granddaughters saved me, each That morning was sunny and cool and our group taking an arm to help pull me up. I rinsed out did not have long to wait for our turn at the el- my mouth, wiped off my face and Chuck and ephant loading platform. We were paired off, and I congratulated each other on surviving what Chuck, a good-sized fellow, and I, of ample girth, indeed was an unforgettable ride on an elephant. got on what was a gaily painted but rather short Anne Schmalz elephant.

T h e C a r l e t o n -W i l l a r d V i l l a g e r • J u n e 2 0 1 5 • V o l u m e 3 3 • N u m b e r 2 5 A Few Memories

h, I wonder if there is anything in my aging Abrain which is unforgettable? Names come and go like butterflies. Did someone call on Tuesday, or was it Wednesday? Perhaps I should drift backwards and seek my earliest memories. My earliest is from April 12, 1931 when I was two and a half years old. It was quite a special day Welcome – a big church wedding – but I only remember my New Residents little Easter bonnet and the pretty light blue silk dress that Grandma had made for me. Lots of peo- David and Virginia (Ginny) Hill ple came to see my father marry my new mother. from State College, PA, 2/27/15 Another memory took place with my new Grandpa. I was helping (?) him throw corn from Olga Toulmin the wagon into the corncrib. His aim was much from Providence, 3/1/15 better than mine. He said we needed a snack, and what a surprise! There in the corncrib was a little wooden box with two red apples. He cut them up Alita (Lee) Brooks with his sharp pocket knife – mmm, cold and juicy. from Nantucket, 3/17/15 About a year after that wedding I remember an- other darling surprise: my father took me to the big Harold (Hal) Roeder hospital to see Mother and my tiny new baby sister. from Georgetown, 3/13/15 I must have been three and a half or four when I locked myself in our bathroom, quite Donna (Lucy) Darley accidentally, and oh my! utter panic. I was sure from Lexington, 3/24/15 I would never see my family again and the tears flowed. The lock was a mystery to me and after a l-o-n-g time Mother asked the neighbor man to Madelyn Armstrong come over and take the door off its hinges. She from Malden, 3/28/15 was quite upset with me, but I was sure I had been rescued from a white-tiled grave. Betty Baker There are remembered glimpses of my from Bedford, 4/4/15 childhood too . . . sharing a double bed with my little sister Megan Zielinski going to church and putting a coin in the from Wayland, 4/8/15 collection plate watching Grandma make wild black rasp- berry jelly from berries from our woods Jean Chamberlain winding the old Victrola and hearing from Bedford, 4/15/15 songs of the 1920’s dreading carsickness -- yuck! Harry and Leanore Mieras summer evenings of moonrise, so many from Lexington, 4/21/15 stars in the Milky Way, and lightning bugs, millions of them. At eighty-six one can forget a lot, but also recall some wonderful, long-ago memories Donna Argon

T h e C a r l e t o n -W i l l a r d V i l l a g e r • J u n e 2 0 1 5 • V o l u m e 3 3 • N u m b e r 2 6 An Incongruous Hiking Group

n 1998 I went to Europe to visit old friends. IFirst stop was Berlin where I stayed with my “ex-pat” friend, David, who lives in the eastern part of the city near the old Berlin Wall. I had traveled with him in 1993 when I led nine Amer- icans on vintage 1880 antique bikes from Ber- lin to Prague, an exciting trip for which David drove the supply van. On that adventure we were joined in Dresden by a German group which included two teenagers, Thomas and Anett. By the time I returned in 1998, Thomas and ancient railroad stations and reached Altenberg Anett were married and the parents of eighteen in early afternoon. We made dinner and bed and month old Leon. Thomas had a doctoral degree breakfast arrangements at a hostel there. Tues- in mechanical engineering and was working for day morning was also bright and sunny. After a the Bombadeer Company building high speed hearty hostel breakfast we stopped at a grocery trains. They lived in Dresden but Thomas worked store and bought a backpack lunch of bread, in Gorlitz and came home on weekends. cheese, fruit and water. David and I had a nice visit with the young The trail led us through rolling country on family in Dresden and told them of a hike David the edge of the forest. This was not your typi- proposed the two of us take in the Ore Moun- cal New England trail of rocks and roots. It was tains which are on the border of the Czech Re- mostly smooth gravel, crossing streams on public with Germany. The Ore Mountains are an footbridges. We had lunch and a rest overlook- international historic site. The range is the same ing a fine valley dotted with farms. We also gave height as the White Mountains but with rounded Leon a little walk for exercise. It was late after- summits more like the Green Mountains. They noon when we reached Kipsdorf where we found slope gently on the German side with sharper a restaurant and a B & B for the night. The next cliffs on the Czech border. David suggested we go day, after a restful night’s sleep, we took the nar- to Heklenau by train and then by the old narrow row gage railroad to Freital Halnsberg and on to gage train to Altenberg, a ski resort, formerly a Dresden. German Ski Troopers training site. The trip back from Kipsdorf descends through Hearing of this, Anett said she would like to the Weisseritz Valley. Built in 1882, it is the last join us, bringing Leon along; Thomas had to re- operating narrow gage railway in Germany. The turn to work. We wondered if this would be wise. gage is 750 mm (2’5”), about one half the width It would give us an almost eighty year age span of American standard gage railroads. It is sixteen and four generations in the group. This made us miles long and has thirteen stations. truly incongruous. We decided to go anyway. All in all it was a wonderful trip through a We planned not only to go to Altenberg but little known countryside. We encountered no to bike to the town of Kipsdorf along a narrow foreign tourists. Leon never cried or fussed. He foot path, and to return to Dresden via another always had a wide smile and enjoyed the trip as narrow gage railroad and S-Bhan. This would much as we did, an incongruous but harmonious entail pushing Leon in his stroller and would hiking group. take a full day. We started off on a beautiful spring Monday Bob Sawyer morning, climbing up alongside a river flow- ing rapidly down the canyon, We passed several

T h e C a r l e t o n -W i l l a r d V i l l a g e r • J u n e 2 0 1 5 • V o l u m e 3 3 • N u m b e r 2 7 Unforgettable The Entanglement

ears ago when I was giving parenting lectures knotted like this, Yacross the states of New Jersey and New York how can it be unknotted? and wanted to connect with each audience on a I gnaw the knots I know, personal level, I found it easy to do by asking each but what of knots attendee to start a conversation with their seated I have not noticed? neighbor about their own experiences in kinder- I follow the string a way garten. Noting that the audience consisted mostly go astray in a snarl. of young parents aged thirty or more, I thought nothing is straight here, their recall might be faint as so many years had the twine has a set to twist passed since their kindergarten experience. that makes it curl However the buzz in the room soon erased until it kinks unthinkably that thought. Quite the opposite was true. It be- and every line runs foul. came a challenge to return their attention to the it begins somewhere reason we engaged in this exercise, which was and ends somewhere no doubt, to demonstrate that young children are deeply but where I can’t make out. impressed by their early school experiences, and each backlashed figure of eight that such experiences are so embedded with catches my fingers in emotional content that they are not forgotten. an infinite whirl. The point was made that early school experi- has it a design? ences carry through to color later personal rela- perhaps. tionships. And that parenting and teaching skills but not mine. which encourage positive interactions enable children to think well of themselves as well as of Craig Hill others with whom they interact. Try the exercise yourself. Simply sit quietly, alone or with another, and reflect back to kinder- garten. Recall that early year in school and retell Spring Tulips an event. My guess is that not only will you be able to recall the happening, but the feelings and content of a conversation and possibly the wall colors as well as the dress of those with whom you interacted. Many behavioral patterns are formed in our early education years which argues strongly for having well educated staff members in our school, those who have a grasp of growth and development as well as subject matter. It is all unforgettable, so constructing positive self image and other concepts early in life is an art form to be encouraged. For those of us who are, will, or have experi- enced memory changes, it’s strange to think that those kindergarten years are still fresh memories while today’s events have not made such a deep im- pression as to be unforgettable. One wonders why! Ara Tyler

T h e C a r l e t o n -W i l l a r d V i l l a g e r • J u n e 2 0 1 5 • V o l u m e 3 3 • N u m b e r 2 10 Whether or Not Spirits, Be Gone!

printed slip found in a box of popcorn, ver the years my husband Bill and I enter- A “PRIZE! Instructions for an experience guar- Otained frequently in our Connecticut home. anteed both surprising and stimulating. We as- In those days we were not wine drinkers, so sume no legal responsibility for possible results.” dinner parties included cocktails and appetizers If you live in an area warm all year round, before dinner and a liqueur afterwards. Due to toss this, no use. But if you have a proper winter, the variety of our friends’ tastes, we maintained pick a nice cold day, pull on your biggest boots a substantial liquor supply in one of our lower and arctic jacket, and march out into the weath- kitchen cabinets. er. (Better check first on the current astrological Several years after Bill’s death, I decided to influence of Sagittarius.) clear the cabinet of all the bottles containing Assume a casual air, however implausible, spirits left behind. So, placing two cushions on and stroll about to find the right icicle. It should the floor, I knelt down and proceeded to pull out be about six inches long, and might perhaps give the bottles, one by one. As the bottles accumu- off a faint glow. Snap it off, rush it home, wrap lated it occurred to me that I needed something it in plastic and stash it in the freezer. Label it to put them in. But as I tried to get up to find a if you wish. But I don’t suppose you will get it container, my legs would not cooperate. I could mixed up with a packet of frozen peas or a left- not get up. over piece of cheesecake. Pursue your regular course of life, however mundane and undistinguished. Wait expectantly for the day when summer officially begins. You might hum Frosty the Snowman as you ap- proach the freezer cautiously. Get your car or rent one, fetch your icicle and slip it under the driver’s seat. You might want to pack a light lunch! Don’t take stuffed olives or cauliflower past its prime. (Cell phone? Laptop? I-pod? Oh, you might as well.) Head for anywhere as long as it’s north- wards. Don’t let a little snow on the windshield upset you; use your wipers. Keep your eyes open for anything a trifle bizarre, lest you miss the crucial encounter. For instance, you might see a hitchhiking At the time I was wearing a “life call” device Eskimo by the roadside. A sullen-looking chap and almost pushed the button. However, as I with a scrofulous husky beside him. The fellow considered using it, I realized what the scene will be carrying a spear, an ice axe or possibly a would be when help arrived. I could picture boombox. an old lady on the floor surrounded by liquor Should you offer him a lift? Or simply take bottles and imagine the whispered “No wonder the next Exit, and maybe check out the sale at she can’t get up!”. Homegoods? At this thought, the adrenaline surged Well, lotsa luck and thanks for your patronage. through my body and I sprang to my feet, rapidly Your Well Wisher, shoving the bottles back in the cupboard for my And, just in case, Goodbye. daughter to take care of on another day. Edith Gilmore Mary O’Meara

T h e C a r l e t o n -W i l l a r d V i l l a g e r • J u n e 2 0 1 5 • V o l u m e 3 3 • N u m b e r 2 11 Village Village Thespians This is a selected summary of events that were enjoyed by On an early spring evening, we enjoyed the Village residents of Carleton-Willard Village in recent months. Thespians’ banquet of music, poetry, and plays, “All You Need is Love”. Sally Rabinowitz’s Cupid tripped author and photographer, his presentation featured in to set a festive tone for the show, which opened photographs taken during his missions for the with songs by Rodgers, Kern, Porter and Romberg International Committee of the Red Cross in coun- sung by Ara Tyler, Harry Hoover and Stefan Schatzki. tries ravaged by war - Chechnya, Bosnia, Croatia Paul Wiggin stirred us with a poignant “Danny Boy”, and Somalia. They illustrated the day-to-day work of and Kay Barney’s Village Voices set feet stomping with compassion done by ICRC workers alleviating hun- “Li’l Lize” and “Chattanooga Choo Choo”. Poems read ger, illness, homelessness and isolation, as they offer by cast members limned shades of love, while dramat- help and hope in the wake of war and devastation. ic scenes offered humor and pathos. Finally, the full His commentary confirmed that war continues to be cast and audience sang “Try to Remember”, capping the worst stain on the human condition. another “unforgettable” evening by producers Anne and Tom Larkin. Mass Horticultural Society Members of the Carleton Willard Garden Club enjoyed an enlightening talk on “Slow Food: Sustain- able Garden” by John Forti from the Massachusetts Horticultural Society. John praised the efforts of local gardeners and farmers to promote the growth and use of organically produced food, in particular histori- cally important foods that thrive in New England. Numerous foods grown by our ancestors, and essen- tial in their diets, have disappeared, as have naturally growing plants they harvested and ate. He encouraged American Antiquarian Society everyone to support famers markets and to increase Isaiah Thomas, born in Boston, was a printer and the use of locally grown food in our diets. publisher before, during and following the Revolu- tionary War. After moving to Worcester, he played a Harvard Art Museums key role in developing the cultural life of the early An enthusiastic group of residents enjoyed a visit years of our nation, including founding the Ameri- to the recently opened new home of the Harvard can Antiquarian Society in 1812. James Moran, Art Museums. Following a $350 million, six-year Director of Outreach for the Society, headquartered renovation, the Fogg, Sackler and Busch-Reisinger in Worcester, brought us the story of Thomas and Museums are now consolidated into a six level the vital role he played during and following the building designed by Renzo Piano. The building Revolution. The Society is home to an outstanding incorporates the historic Quincy Street façade collection of printed books, pamphlets and docu- and the Calderwood Courtyard, highlighted by a ments produced in the colonies and during the five level atrium topped by a glass roof. Led by our century following the start of the Revolution. individual interests, we explored exhibition galler- ies, visited the art study center, viewed the conser- Paul Grabhorn Presentation vation center, and stopped by the shop. The trip Paul Grabhorn, son of resident Marion Grabhorn, concluded with a delightful lunch at the Red House offered an inspiring talk on “Seeking Light: Portraits restaurant in Harvard Square. of Humanitarian Action in War”. A professional

T h e C a r l e t o n -W i l l a r d V i l l a g e r • J u n e 2 0 1 5 • V o l u m e 3 3 • N u m b e r 2 12 Happenings They are samples of the ongoing activities planned by our Bob Schmalz, running unopposed for a spot on the Learning In Retirement and Off-site Programs offices. Bedford Housing Authority, drew enthusiastic sup- port. Candidates for Selectman and Library Trustee Piano Concert also spoke. On a cold winter night a large group of residents was treated to a concert of piano works for four Rio Grande Lecture hands, presented by Bonnie Anderson and Andree Bill Gette, Director of the Audubon Society’s Joppa Robert. They combined in a program of works by Flats Education Center, offered an illustrated lecture Bach, Barber, Chopin and Schubert. In a lighter on the scenic Rio Grande Corridor in Texas and New mood, they played Camptown Races and Wayfaring Mexico, emphasizing the rich variety of habitats and Stranger, in arrangements for four hands by Robert bird life in the region. Extending north from El Paso Muczynski. While appreciating her musical talents, to Albuquerque, the corridor includes desert, ripar- many residents reminded Andree Robert of their ian areas along the river and mountain forests. His appreciation of her talents as long-time executive magnificent pictures captured the scenery, as well chef of Maison Robert, a fine Boston restaurant as the varied bird populations, including shorebirds owned by her family in years gone by.

Barbara Hills’ Art Exhibit With winter’s colors - white and grey - dominat- ing the outdoors, it has been a pleasure to see the colorful exhibit of Barbara Hills’ art in the gallery. A wide variety of subject matter and the predominance of acrylics characterize her current work, but in the past she used pen and ink and graphite as well as and desert birds, and tens of thousands of Snow and oils. Four graphite portraits recall an early class with Ross’s geese. The trip began at an altitude of 3700 feet Joseph Coletta in Lexington. The cool colors of her in the Chihuahuan desert and ended at 10,678 feet water scenes contrast with the bright colors in her atop Sandia Peak near Albuquerque. flowers and the head of a parrot. Barbara may venture into watercolor as a future challenge.. Harpist Rebecca Swett Harpist Rebecca Swett offered an entertaining Bedford Town Election Candidates evening of music, featuring a variety of popular A few days before the Bedford Town Election, songs and pieces by classical composers. Opening resident Tom Larkin hosted a “Meet the Candidates with “Autumn Leaves”, and including “The Impos- Forum”. Before introducing the candidates, Tom sible Dream”, the popular section concluded with asked residents to describe their personal experi- “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”. Midway through ence in municipal governments. The response re- her concert, Ms. Swett explained the history of the vealed many and widely varied offices and responsi- harp, how the instrument is played, and how she bilities represented. The candidates for town offices manages to transport it wherever she performs. The then introduced themselves, described the position evening concluded with a classical section, open- they seek, and the qualifications they will bring ing with Debussy’s Claire de Lune and ending with to the job. Both candidates running for the only a medley of Irish melodies composed for the Celtic contested office, on the Bedford School Committee, Harp, in recognition of the day of the concert, St. attended and made strong presentations. Resident Patrick’s Day. Edwin Cox

T h e C a r l e t o n -W i l l a r d V i l l a g e r • J u n e 2 0 1 5 • V o l u m e 3 3 • N u m b e r 2 13 Sights, Sounds and Smells of My Childhood

The wooden screen door slapping behind me. Fresh sawdust from sawing logs. Clay-y mud in the pond. Flies buzzing - no other sound. Dad’s car coming down the road from work. Nancy van Loon February 5, 2015 Corn silk when shucking. Rosalind Conner February 16 Fresh paint on the fence. Baiting worms on a fishhook. Earl Harrison February 22 Feet sucking muck in the pond. A canoe paddling in the water. Jane Crawford February 27 Wood crackling in the fireplace. Cucumbers in vinegar. Pam Smith March 4 Priming the pump in the sink. Wild strawberries. Anne Zwicker March 16 Cold, clear water from the spring. Roman Candles over the pond. Ruth Nilssen March 16 Crows cawing me awake. Rain on the “guesthouse” roof. Mary Jane Harvey March 17 Rolling cigarettes for Dad in the Cigarette Antoinette (Toni) Neal March 26 Roller. Scratchy 78 records on the wind-up Victrola. Helen Healy April 8 Kerosene lamps. Gas lamp mantles. Martha Lawrence April 14 Fresh-picked berries from Dana Howland’s. Slapping a wet bathing suit to your body. Eric Kula April 20

A warm, fresh doughnut rolled in the sugar bowl. Mom’s mince meat pie (deer meat). Hamburgers frying on Grammy’s hot wood stove. The shake of corn in the fireplace corn popper. Burgess’ shoe store (leather and rubber of Bass shoes). Dad’s rose garden with silver gazing globe. Mom at piano. Dad on banjo. Dad’s world-class tuberous rooted begonias. Jim on organ. Dick on trumpet. Putting the oars in the oarlocks. Dancing on Dad’s feet. Raising the flag. Static electricity at Aunt Inez’s. Licking the vanilla pudding from Nina’s double Aunt Mary’s Baked Alaska. boiler. Snow sliding off the back roof. The nest of flycatchers under the eaves. Sheets on the line, stiff with ice. The kingfisher in the dead elm. Lawnmower start-up attempts. Unguentine and Absorbine Junior. The lilac bush in May. Indian paintbrush. Madelyn E. Armstrong

T h e C a r l e t o n -W i l l a r d V i l l a g e r • J u n e 2 0 1 5 • V o l u m e 3 3 • N u m b e r 2 14 Winter Wondering

Where did all the song birds go? Don't you want to know? Don't their feathers Keep them warm Even in the snow? They soar up in the air And seem without a care. They flit and fly. I don't know why. We watch and wonder as they fly -- Up and down In and out -- round about! The sky is their home. They are God's toys! God gets our attention With His inventions -- The birds, the bees, the flowers, the trees.

Helen Kilbridge

T h e C a r l e t o n -W i l l a r d V i l l a g e r • J u n e 2 0 1 5 • V o l u m e 3 3 • N u m b e r 2 15 Voulez Vous Parler Francais? Non! have been generous for he finally smiled as did the other customers. n 1987 I was lucky enough to accompany my Unforgettable to me but I don’t think I jeop- Ihusband to Geneva, Switzerland. It was unfor- ardized international relations too greatly and gettable for many reasons, one being an embar- the sandwich really was good. rassing incident on my part. While my husband was working, I spent a Peggy McKibben long and happy morning touring the Cathedral of St. Peter, the Roman Catholic Church which became a Protestant Church in 1536 and where •••••• John Calvin preached from 1536 to 1564. Un- der the present church, archeological digs have found worship sites dating from the 4th century. Night Recipe Using my guides and maps I toured for several hours till I suddenly realized I was both exhaust- Here are the means which (possibly) may lure ed and hungry. those weighty dreams to come, the kind that cure Strolling out to the street I found a small the body, soul or spirit of its pain. neighborhood café with booths as well as a Your fate foretold and mysteries made plain. counter where several customers were eating a late lunch. I motioned to one of the booths and First, bedtime invocations. You intone asked “okay?” to the man behind the counter. He said something in French that I did not under- a few obscurely mystic Celtic charms. stand and I was embarrassed by my abysmal lack (And, by the way, your nightwear should be sewn of knowledge of French. in Greece, by lonely girls on rocky farms.) Nonetheless I was hungry and tired so I sat down in the booth, smiled and said “Sandwich”. Next, underneath your pillow you must tuck I could see people at the counter grinning, and a gemstone scarab from a desert hoard. the waiter frowning and rolling his eyes, Finally This talisman (you hope) will bring you luck he threw a menu down on my table and seemed to indicate a section where I could order. Con- from some Egyptian god or mummied lord. cerned but hungry I pointed to an item and went back to studying my guidebook, Soon a beautiful You now entice your cat to share your bed, sandwich arrived, I was enjoying it when a man and, as a final rite, walked in the door and the waiter repeated the caress its bony little head. same word that he had several times said to me. Put out your bedside light Only this would-be customer shrugged, Who knows what next? turned around and left. Again I could see the others grinning. Finally the word came through At least expect an interesting night. to me: “Fermé, Fermé” he had said, and then I remembered … “Fermé … CLOSED!” I had ar- Edith Gilmore rived too late for lunch and too dumb to realize it. I was mortified by my “crazy American” error and wanted to disappear. But I had also greatly enjoyed my sandwich and was rested to boot. So I flashed my biggest smile, said “Merci, Merci” and handed him a large bill. From the bills he returned, I handed a couple back and I must

T h e C a r l e t o n -W i l l a r d V i l l a g e r • J u n e 2 0 1 5 • V o l u m e 3 3 • N u m b e r 2 16 Surprised by Meghan SOLD to the Little Lady in Yellow

he telephone rang on January 12th. It was a I think my fondness for our Excess Baggage Tcall we had been expecting from our son, Da- Sale has its origins in the thirties when summer vid. He sounded very excited. His first words were weekend entertainment often featured a country “Hurry up, Mom. The baby is coming.” I knew auction. Something about the thrill of the chase, this meant I should get to Holliston as soon as the possibility of treasure and the satisfaction of a possible. Our newest grandchild was coming and bargain has stayed with me. I was needed to care for Corey, our grandson. In those days, auctions were convivial, neighbor- I started out and soon realized it would be a ly affairs. They predated the invasion of big city deal- slow drive. It was snowing and visibility was diffi- ers, let alone cell phones and long distance mystery cult. It took longer than I should have liked. When buyers. One arrived early to take advantage of the I arrived I was surprised to see an ambulance still “viewing hour.” An early morning chill lingered, the in the driveway and an EMT walking up the drive grass was dewy. Children of all ages roamed about, to meet me. Helping me down the drive he said largely unsupervised. Dogs, too. Benches, rickety not to worry, that everything was under control. chairs, were scattered about the farmyard. On a At the house I found Corey and a neighbor, lucky day the farmer’s wife stood behind an oilcloth- Lew, calmly playing in the family room. Lew covered table of sorts (planks on sawhorses) dispens- told me that the baby was coming too fast to ing lemonade for a nickel, doughnuts for a dime. leave for the hospital, and that my daughter-in- The auctioneer was often our neighbor Mr. Wharf. law, Eileen, refused to have the baby beside the He knew most people there and chivvied, encouraged road. Instead the baby was born on the bath- or scolded them to liven the action. room floor. This was the master bath and quite My mother regularly spotted treasures. “Golden large. It was only a matter of minutes before we Oak” was in vogue at the time; mahogany and cherry heard a baby crying. Someone called down that passé. Thus she acquired a Duncan Phyfe dining it was a girl and that mother and baby were fine. table at a fraction of its worth. My favorite chore for A short time later, David came downstairs years was polishing it, especially its lovely legs end- with a swaddled baby and introduced me to my ing in claw feet. granddaughter, Meghan. She looked right into While largely a fascinated observer of the my eyes and a bond was formed immediately. scene, I was attracted to the “job lots” of unspeci- Meghan’s birth was special for a number of fied items which arrived in cartons towards the reasons. While there were two EMTs and a po- end of the sale. (Shades of my first Baggage Sale liceman present, none had ever delivered a baby. job on the Receive and Sort team.) Often there (David had helped with Corey’s delivery two years was a star item, a farm tool or kitchen necessity before.) It had been at least twenty-five years to tempt bidders. On one occasion there seemed since a baby had been born in Holliston; the town nothing to highlight so bidding in the thinning could not find a birth certificate to fill out for her. crowd was lackluster and I saw my chance. “Twen- After this traumatic entry into the world ty-five cents” I yelled. “SOLD” bellowed Mr. Wharf. Meghan and her mother went by ambulance to the “to the little lady in yellow.” hospital where they were placed in isolation since And the contents? A fine mason jar, just the the birth had been in an unsterile environment. thing for the Black-eyed Susans growing wild in This was truly an unforgettable experience the meadow across from our house, a bag of sea and one I would not trade for anything. Meghan shells, two slightly battered saucepans, and a wo- is now sixteen, a great joy. She continues to ven pot holder on which the mason jar of flowers meet life at her speed, which is fast forward. She could sit to protect the Duncan Phyfe table. You is truly an awesome granddaughter. see? A treasure trove and a bargain. Myrtle Cox Alice Morrish

T h e C a r l e t o n -W i l l a r d V i l l a g e r • J u n e 2 0 1 5 • V o l u m e 3 3 • N u m b e r 2 17 Camping at Cinnamon Bay Our tent was in a grove of trees among other tents. The others seemed to be inhabited by old to arrive at daylight we reached our desti- families with young children who were being Tnation, Cinnamon Bay Campground, at nine tucked into their beds for the night. p.m. in total darkness. We pulled back the tent flaps and entered. The trip had been planned by my good friend, There were four Army cots along the four sides Jan, who had been given a tent rental by her of the tent. A rope across the center of the tent sister for Christmas. One afternoon a few weeks held a bunch of of misshapen wire coathangers after Christmas the phone rang and it was Jan. stretched between the tent poles, a bare light “How would you like to join me and two friends bulb hung from the roof, a shelf was shoved from Fairfield for five days of camping on St. against the back wall. Outside, in front were a John’s Island?” picnic table and two benches, a kerosene stove “I’ll have to think about it,” I said. “See if I and small refrigerator. can get a sitter.” It was 1966 and my children We drew straws for our cots, unpacked our were still young. “Maybe I’d better not, though duffels and changed into more suitable cloth- I’d really love to go.” Austin, overhearing the ing. Ann and I donned another pair of shorts and conversation, said “C’mon Mum, go for it. You’ll tees. Jan, a long hostess skirt which dusted the have fun.” So, I agreed to go. dirt floor, and Jackie, to my amazement, after Two months later our foursome met at JFK. removing her wig, placed it on the wig stand I had packed shorts, tee shirts, bathing suits, she took from her bag, put on another wig and sneakers, snorkel gear, sun screen and mos- another Lilly. Jan then prepared the evening quito repellant. I was dressed for camping in my meal. The other tents were silent as all the other shorts. Jackie, one of the new friends arrived in campers were snug in their beds. With the com- a Lilly Pulitzer. I noticed she had not a hair out bination of fatigue and drink and the prospect of of place. Ann, the second new friend, wore an days of discomfort our voices and our laughter orthopedic collar around her neck. She had had became louder and louder accompanied by pleas polio and could not raise her head nor her arms. for quiet, “shhs” and even impolite suggestions. As we boarded the jet, Jan announced “I was Before we turned in we went in search of cautioned to arrive in daylight but we will be a the john. Our flashlights picked out two behind little late.” We arrived in St. Croix as the sun was wooden doors and open to the stars. The shower sinking, grabbed a taxi, stopped at a grocery store hidden by a mildewed curtain was close by. It for the essentials of life: food, liquor, and toilet was activated by a string which released water paper, and arrived at the ferry dock to cross over from a large bucket on a shelf above. No warm to St. John’s as darkness fell. Jan, intrepid as al- water showers here. ways, marched off to find a jeep and directions to We trudged back to our quarters and climbed the campground.The island appeared to be in total into our cots when, much to our dismay, we real- darkness, an occasional street light and dim glow ized the tent flap had to be left open because Ann from native houses was the only light. The route could not raise her arms to untie the flaps to was winding and precipitous, and we clung to the exit during the night, a frequent need. With the jeep’s sides in fear of slipping off the road. After flap open we were going to be dinner for every several wrong turns, we bumped along a dirt road winged creature on the island and serenaded by and there in front of us was the dimly lit camp- the hum of mosquitos. There were also mon- ground headquarters. No one was there, but we goose who traveled freely at night. Though I could hear the beckoning sound of surf. Finally a loved Rikki Tikki Tavi I didn’t want to share my young man arrived, “You were supposed to arrive bed with him. When I lay down I discovered an in daylight,” he said reproachfully. Then reluc- iron bar awarth my cot which dug into the small tantly, “Follow me and I’ll lead you to your tent.” of my back. The days ahead did not look any- thing but dismal.

T h e C a r l e t o n -W i l l a r d V i l l a g e r • J u n e 2 0 1 5 • V o l u m e 3 3 • N u m b e r 2 18 As always the light of day brings clearer, After dinner that night, we decided to go for brighter vision. After breakfast we felt gayer and a walk on the beach. The air was soft and and the looked forward to exploring the island and swim- water enticing so we decided to go skinny dip- ming in the clear aqua water. Jan conducted the ping. We left our clothes in neat piles and dove tour. With her straw hat plunked on her head into the luscious phosphorescence filled water. she became Miss Jean Brodie and we her girls. After paddling around in the “quick silver” water We followed a steep road to the top of a hill from for awhile, we noticed a man emerging from the where we could see in all directions: the bright jungle onto the beach. He looked at us, then turquoise water circling the island broken by at the piles of clothes and disappeared into the curves of which Cinnamon Bay was one, white trees. Soon he reappeared, this time stark naked. sandy beaches, and almost obscured by the green He dove into the water toward us. As he came forest, an old and abandoned sugar plantation. up he snarled “Sometimes I hunt barracuda, but Down below us was a small cove which sometimes I hunt other things.” We shrieked, looked ideal for swimming. “Let’s drive down hurried out of the water, squeezed our wet bod- there and have a swim,” I suggested. We were ies into our clothes, and fled. As we were leaving, disappointed to find the dark rim around the we recognized our accoster. He was the young cove was not coral but a colony of sea urchins. man who had led us to our tent the previous There was no evening. safe way to wade After that,we through them. settled into a Disheartened we routine of shop- returned to camp ping and exploring and swam in our in the morning, own bay which was a nap after lunch delightful. There followed by swim- was a trail which ming, snorkeling led snorkelers and relaxing with through a maze our books on the of bright colored beach. coral and fish of The last day all kinds, sergeant we put on our best majors, blue and clothes and drove yellow angel fish, to Caneel Bay, a groupers, etc. Rockefeller resort for the rich and famous. What In the afternoon after a post lunch nap we met a difference in accommodations! We walked our neighbors. A little boy said to me in a menac- along the raked beach admiring the small haci- ing voice, “Do you own this place?” He had re- endas, the palm thatched gazebos, the cabanas, fused to use the latrine because of the odor. I had the variety of sea craft for the use of guests, etc. solved that problem by wearing my snorkel mask We had a delicious lunch in an outdoor pavilion with a eucalyptus twig hung below my nose. Wait- overlooking the sea. ing in line for a shower we met an ex prizefighter That night we packed for an early morning with a cauliflower ear and several young men and departure. Five days of discomfort and laughter women on spring break, unshaven young men had forged lifetime friendships. with long straggly hair, both men and women in the fad of the times, ragged sawed off jeans. They Nancy Smith were friendly and full of advice about where we should go and what we should do.

T h e C a r l e t o n -W i l l a r d V i l l a g e r • J u n e 2 0 1 5 • V o l u m e 3 3 • N u m b e r 2 19 T h e C a r l e t o n -W i l l a r d V i l l a g e r • J u n e 2 0 1 5 • V o l u m e 3 3 • N u m b e r 2 20 “Libraries are the mainstays of democracy...So keep them, find them, embrace and cherish them.” David Baldacci Book Selection Anyone who steps into our library here at DONATIONS Carleton-Willard Village notices that it is a very The residents of Carleton Willard Village often popular and active place. Residents are browsing donate books to the library, and another sub- the shelves, signing books in and out, reading the committee meets once a month to decide which newspapers and doing the daily puzzles. Volunteers donations to accept. We have set our standards are shelving books, entering circulation data into high, due to the limited shelf space, and accept the library computer and processing new books. only recently published books in good condition There is always something going on. that are of interest to our readers. The donated books that we choose not to accept are taken to the REGULAR PRINT BOOKS Bedford Public Library. We request that residents The real heart of any library is its collection. The review each possible donation to ensure that the main mission of our eleven member Library Com- book meets our criteria. mittee is to keep the collection current and inter- esting. To that end the committee meets once a BOOK REQUESTS month to discuss policy and to select new regular Residents are heartily encouraged to recommend print books. We use a variety of book review sourc- books for inclusion in our collection. They should es: the New York Times Book Review, The New fill out a card for each recommended book, giving York Review of Books, Book Page from our local their name, the author, title, publisher and publi- library, and subscriptions to Kirkus and Booklist. cation date of the book, and a brief description of its content. Special cards for recommendations are Each committee member is asked to bring two kept in the library desk, but a 3x5 index card can book suggestions to each monthly meeting. We also be used. Recommendations will be presented choose between fifteen and twenty regular print at the next meeting of the Library Committee. books, with an eye on the balance between fiction and non- fiction titles, and keeping in mind the The members of the Library Committee encourage reading tastes of our residents, we also keep a short all residents to bring in their comments and rec- list of titles to be previewed before a decision is ommendations and we are always happy to provide made. Our new regular print materials are ordered a guided tour of our library. We are very proud of it! from Amazon and usually arrive in two days. Katherine F. Graff LARGE PRINT BOOKS Library Committee Chair New large print books are ordered from Cengage Learning, and selections are made by a special sub- committee. Each month we receive the Cengage catalog and this is passed around so each sub-com- mittee member can make suggestions. The chair of the Large Print sub-committee then chooses seven titles to be ordered. Our order arrives in about ten days.

T h e C a r l e t o n -W i l l a r d V i l l a g e r • J u n e 2 0 1 5 • V o l u m e 3 3 • N u m b e r 2 21 Among the Newest

The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah Dead Wake by Erik Larson Engrossing tale of two sisters and Factual and personal account of the last and their bravery in occupied France fatal crossing of the Lusitania during World during World War II. War I.

Hissing Cousins by Marc Peyser and The Court-Martial of Paul Revere by Michael Timothy Dwyer Greenburg A double biography of Eleanor Roosevelt After his famous midnight ride, Paul Revere and Alice Roosevelt Longworth, two failed as a military leader in the naval battle of strong, intelligent, and very different Penobscot Bay. women. A Dangerous Place by Jacqueline Winspear Leaving Time by Jodi Picoult Maisie Dobbs, nurse turned private investigator, All about elephants and a strange becomes embroiled in a murder case on Gibraltar as the Spanish Civil War begins. disappearance at an elephant reserve in New Hampshire. Welcome to Subirdia by John Marzluff City suburbs surprisingly have greater bird A Kim Jong Il Production by Paul Fischer diversity than forests, and we are given ten True Story of the North Korean dictator’s ways to enjoy and preserve such a gift. kidnapping of two South Korean movie stars in the hopes of outdoing Hollywood. Travels in Vermeer by Michael White Going through difficult times, the poet finds One Plus One by Jojo Moyes solace and reassurance by studying Vermeer Love story involving a chaotic family, paintings at home and abroad. with a single mom faced with a quirky stranger. At the Water’s Edge by Sara Gruen Love story about the awakening of a H is for Hawk by Helen Macdonald privileged young woman in the Scottish The author, a longtime falconer, finds highlands during World War II. emotional healing as she raises and trains a young goshawk. Leaving Before the Rains Come by Alexandra Fuller The Stranger by Harlan Coben Vivid memoir about the disintegration of The stranger whispers secrets in one’s ear colonial Africa (Rhodesia) and of the author’s and then disappears, leaving you to pick family there. up the pieces of your shattered life. Louis W. Pitt, Jr.

T h e C a r l e t o n -W i l l a r d V i l l a g e r • J u n e 2 0 1 5 • V o l u m e 3 3 • N u m b e r 2 22 Recent Library Acquisitions (* indicates Large Print)

Art Osnos, Evan Age of Ambition Bell, Julian Van Gogh: A Power Schieffer, Bob Bob Schieffer’s America Seething Finlay, Victoria The Brilliant History of Essays and Letters Color In Art White, E. B. Essays of E. B. White Grabbhorn, Paul Seeking Light Winfrey, Oprah What I Know For Sure (*) Lemaitre, Alain & Florence and the Lessing, Eric Renaissance Fiction Raynes, John Human Anatomy for the Atwood, Margaret Stone Mattress (*) Artist Binchy, Maeve Chestnut Street (*) Wilmerding, John Andrew Wyeth: The Helga Camilleri, Andrea Game of Mirrors Pictures Coben, Harlan The Stranger Coben, Harlan The Stranger (*) Autobiography/Memoir Ephron, Hallie Night, Night, Sleep Tight Fuller, Alexandra Leaving Before the Rains Fanning, Diane Scandal in the Secret City Come Fesperman, Dan Unmanned (*) Galpin, Shannon Mountain to Mountain (*) Fielding, Joy Someone is Watching Jansson, Tove Sculptor’s Daughter Gruen, Sara At the Water’s Edge Kim, Suki Without You There Is No Us Hannah, Kristin The Nightingale Storm, Morten Agent Storm Harrod-Eagles, Star Fall White, Michael Travels in Vermeer Cynthia Zakaria, Rafia The Upstairs Wife Hawkins, Paula The Girl on the Train Hepworth, Sally The Secrets of Midwives (*) Biography Higashino, Keigo Malice (*) Anand, Anita Sophia Hoag, Tami Cold Cold Heart (*) Hobbs, Jeff The Short and Tragic Life of Hooper, Emma Etta and Otto and Russell Robert Peace (*) and James Peyser, Marc Hissing Cousins James, Miranda Arsenic and Old Books Wick, Steve The Long Night Kava, Alex Breaking Creed (*) Krentz, Jayne Ann Trust No One (*) Current Affairs Lehane, Dennis World Gone By Barcott, Bruce Weed the People Leon, Donna Falling In Love Chayes, Sarah Thieves of State Morais, Richard The Hundred Foot Eagleton, Terry Across the Pond Journey (*) Lewis, Michael Flash Boys Moyes, Jojo One Plus One McGraw, Seamus Betting the Farm on a Nath, Fred The Cyclist Drought

T h e C a r l e t o n -W i l l a r d V i l l a g e r • J u n e 2 0 1 5 • V o l u m e 3 3 • N u m b e r 2 23 Recent Library Acquisitions (* indicates Large Print)

O’Reilly, Sally Dark Aemilia History Parmar, Priya Vanessa and Her Sister Cahill, Thomas How the Irish Saved Pearlman, Edith Honeydew Civilization (*) Perry, Anne The Angel Court Affair Croke, Vicki Elephant Company (*) Picoult, Jodi Leaving Time Fischer, Paul A Kim Jong Il Production Pritchett, Laura Stars Go Blue Greenburg, Michael The Court-Martial of Paul Reza, Yasmina Happy Are the Happy Revere Robertson, Imogen The Paris Winter (*) Horn, Jonathan The Man Who Would Not Runcie, James Sidney Chambers and the Be Washington Shadow of Death Larson, Erik Dead Wake See, Lisa China Dolls Russell, Jan Jarboe The Train to Crystal City (*) Steinhauer, Olen All the Old Knives (*) Tuchman, Barbara The March of Folly Toibin, Colm Nora Webster (*) Tyler, Anne A Spool of Blue Thread Nature Tyler, Anne A Spool of Blue Thread (*) Hugo, Nancy Ross Trees Up Close Walls, Jeannette The Silver Star Macdonald, Helen H is for Hawk Weaver, Ashley Murder at the Brightwell (*) Marzluff, John M. Welcome to Subirdia Winspear, Jacqueline A Dangerous Place Stavrinides, Liz Miracle Dogs (*)

Health and Wellness Science Hindman, Jim Was Blind But Now I See Barrie, David Sextant Mace, Nancy & The 36-Hour Day Rabins, Peter Nearing, Helen Light on Aging and Dying (* indicates Large Print)

Katherine F. Graff

T h e C a r l e t o n -W i l l a r d V i l l a g e r • J u n e 2 0 1 5 • V o l u m e 3 3 • N u m b e r 2 24

1 0 0 O l d B i l l e r i c a R o a d • B e d f o r d , M A 0 1 7 3 0 781.275.8700 • F a x 781.275.5787